


Soft Hearts

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, Episode Tag s1e11 "The Magnificent Eight", HexHunter, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 04:30:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6641509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>promise me a place in your house of memories</i>
</p>
<p>Rip never thought he and Jonah would cross paths again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> finally wrote some hexhunter! love this pairing, it needs more love tbh. it's the only thing that makes rip bearable, i think.
> 
> written to the tune of [house of memories by panic! at the disco](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KuliCkN2oic), highly recommend you listen while thinking of these cowboy losers. 
> 
> not beta'd, enjoy!

“What is it about you people that whenever we go to a new timeline you feel the need to pick up—”

Rip pauses as his words catch in his throat, rub raw against the skin; his heart skips a beat and leaves him feeling woozy, unsteady on his feet. The whole world seems to slow down to a snail’s crawl the moment Jonah turns and faces him, and it feels as though they stare at one another for eternity.

“—Strays?” Rip finishes as he steps closer, trying to keep his face and tone calm, collected, unreadable.

Jonah immediately turns in a circle to take in the details of the ship. “Nice… Didn’t get to see it last time I was around,” he drawls as he starts to wander.

Rip barely hears Palmer’s mutter of _‘last time?’_ but answers it anyway. “A long story which we will not be telling,” his voice isn’t as sharp or firm as he meant it to be. If anything, he speaks too softly and too carefully and is probably only arousing _more_ suspicion as opposed to _less_.

“My coat suits you good,” Jonah remarks, and Rip can hear the smirk curving his lips.

Rip wills the heat in his face to fade before any of the team notices. Sometimes he forgets—or, he _tries_ to forget—that this jacket is Jonah’s, not his, never really his. It’s a jacket taken in a flurry of an escape, a disaster of a goodbye several long years ago, and Rip’s shame is sewn into the seams.

Rip listens half-heartedly as Jonah, Palmer, and Jax take turns explaining what happened; he pipes in when it’s expected, when he knows this rag tag team of misfits he’s gathered needs a scolding, but otherwise his attention is entirely occupied by Jonah alone. Rip’s mind, in between trying to remember to be angry at Snart and exasperated with the lot of them, is foggy with memories of the last time he saw Jonah. It feels like a lifetime ago, and Rip supposed it sort of was.

Reluctantly, he catches Jonah’s gaze and wants so badly to ignore the sadness staring back at him

 

Later, once the sun has set over the dusty roads of Salvation and things are nearly in order, Rip doesn’t try to be surprised when Jonah backs him against a wall and kisses him like they’re both about to die. Jonah crowds his personal space, grabs Rip by the wrists and presses him against the wall, and kisses him so deeply and desperately Rip feels the faint sting of tears in his eyes. Rip kisses back just as harshly but lets Jonah take the lead.

He caves to Jonah’s touch and arches against his body, grinding their half hard cocks together and swallowing Jonah’s ragged gasp. Rip flexes his fingers until Jonah’s grip on his wrists slackens, then Rip immediately latches onto the fabric of Jonah’s coat.

They pull back when their lungs start to burn but don’t stray far from each other. Rip brushes his cheek along the scars on Jonah’s face, traces the uneven texture with his lips. Their breathing evens out after a few moments but neither moves to kiss the other again.

“This is nice,” Rip remarks as his fingers dance along the seams of Jonah’s coat.

Jonah huffs a laugh, “don’t get any ideas, now,” he warns.

Rip smiles fondly and pulls Jonah minutely closer. “I don’t think I could part with this one,” he gestures to the soft brown coat still clinging to his frame, just as it has been for several years. Rip opens his mouth to speak again but falls silent at the intense stare he’s met with.

“Never thought I’d see you again,” Jonah murmurs and his words burn Rip’s skin.

“I didn’t exactly plan on coming back,” Rip retorts. He’s short and sharp but Jonah sees right through the façade. Jonah laughs and shakes his head and kisses Rip again, softer this time.

When they break the kiss, Rip presses his forehead to Jonah’s and neither of them moves to pick up Jonah’s hat when it topples to the ground. They stand against the wall in silence for a long while, until the threat of too many things unsaid and too many tears stinging his eyes nearly overwhelm Rip.

He pulls Jonah by the edges of his coat until they stumble into Rip’s room, toward the bed, clothes hitting the floor as they go. Rip pushes Jonah to the bed but follows quick after, practically bouncing into his lap. It startles laughter from the both of them, sparks of delight that pass quickly but leave the room lighter in their wake. They tumble around in the sheets like rowdy teenagers, touching and kissing but barely taking things further.

Normally, Rip might be annoyed by the pace they’re taking—before, things had always been fast. The talking, the kissing, the preparation and the sex, none of it had lasted an hour, if that. Rip had liked it that way, back then. He thrived on the rush of adrenaline Jonah never failed to provide. He had been young, or at least it felt that way. He felt rebellious and dangerous, a firecracker in Jonah’s hands and hardly caring.

Really, he had only been selfish. He had wanted to come back to the Time Masters, to the woman he still thought of too often to devote himself only to Jonah.  He had been selfish in leaving, and even more selfish in coming back.

Rip finally does cry when he sinks down on Jonah’s cock. It isn’t the burn of the stretch and it’s not even the waves of pleasure wracking his body. It’s his guilt and shame and desperation. He lean forward and brackets Jonah’s head with his elbows, leans down and kisses Jonah hungrily, messily, teeth clacking together. He kisses as though it can help him forget all his misdeeds, all the ways he’s been wrong.

Jonah’s arms curl across his back and Jonah’s hips buck up to meet Rip’s thrusts downwards. Jonah kisses him back slowly and Rip lets himself be guided. He lets Jonah take all his frustration and embarrassment and wishful thinking. He _gives_ it all to Jonah because no one else can—could— _would_ take it. Jonah drinks it all in without falter and Rip comes harder than he ever has before.

Afterwards they lay together, limbs tangled, and when Rip confesses, “I’ve missed you,” Jonah returns the sentiment without missing a beat.

 

“Be well, Jonah. Perhaps we will see each other again.” Rip looks up at Jonah and smiles, polite and reserved.

The half-smirk he gets in return soothes his nerves. “Yeah, I reckon that’d be alright.” Then, with surprising grace, Jonah leans down and grips Rip’s chin, tugging him forward into a kiss. The kiss is long and deep but not frenzied or needy. It’s easy and fond and feels like a salve to a burn.

Rip leans up on his toes into the kiss and pulls back only when Jonah does. There’s a light in Jonah’s eye that Rip realizes he’s sorely missed, and seeing it again feels Rip’s chest with warmth.

Jonah tips his hat with another private grin, then rides off. Rip watches until he’s a speck on the horizon and doesn’t look away even when Snart comes up behind him to taunt and tease. Rip smiles and for once he doesn’t care who sees; he doesn’t care who sees the blush staining the cheeks, and he doesn’t care who knows what happened the night prior between him and Jonah. He feels lighter, more at-ease than he has in ages, and he plans to revel in the feeling for as long as he can.


End file.
